


Treasure, Little Pleasures

by simulacraryn



Series: Writing Prompts [14]
Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Childhood Memories, Comfort Food, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Nuns, Stereotypes, Writing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-11
Updated: 2018-01-18
Packaged: 2019-03-03 08:49:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13337679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/simulacraryn/pseuds/simulacraryn
Summary: Short Snippets of Duo's memories ranging from various important parts of his life. They may not always be the best memories, but they're the ones Duo recalls most of his life.





	1. It's mine, it's mine!

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Shinigami_of_Excellence](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shinigami_of_Excellence/gifts).



> For Shini, I love ya!

"Duo, come back here right now! Unruly child, I'm going to cane you!"

Sister Marisol's voice echoed through the halls of Maxwell Church, her strong Spaniard accent vibrating against her throat. She'd been trying to days to get Duo to cut his hair, but he continued to run. Miscreant, she thought bitterly, a mutt that would never amount to much. She could not believe he'd bitten a potential set of parents that merely tried to touch his hair! Deemed unadoptable, it meant Duo would continue to be a weight against the parish, an expense the Church wouldn't want on them for much longer. She _had_ to get rid of that child. But god forgive her for the thought of wishing he'd died along with his so called brother, Solo. 

"No!" - The misfit in question shouted back, hiding behind Sister Helen's skirts. Nobody knew why the boy was so enamored with his hair, but it was always tangled, matted and ratty. All Marisol wanted was to chop the blasted thing off and make him look presentable. Maybe then she could get rid of him. 

Sister Helen, noting the vicious look in the elder Marisol's eyes, continued to shield Duo with her body. - "Mother Marisol, perhaps I can reason with young Duo..." Marisol became furious at the younger nun. No one, not even Father Maxwell questioned her authority! But their young charge, she noticed, was crying and shivering against Helen's leg. Her expression softened, finding herself incapable of taking action against the child. - " You mustn't be so spiteful, Mother Marisol." Helen spoke again, a hand reaching to pet Duo's head of hair.

"For the word says, that the kingdom of Heaven belongs to the children. We must be more like children if we aspire to join Him at His Side." - She paraphrased the Word, forcing Marisol to scoff in her direction. " _Fine_ , just hope that feral boy doesn't bite you too..." 

*~*~* Father Maxwell had been preparing the night mass' homily when Sister Helen walked through the door, a smile on her face. Father Maxwell glanced up, noting the satisfied look. - "Tell me you found a solution to Marisol's incessant screaming about Duo?"

" I sure have, Father." - Sister Helen sat at the pew, a soft glance around their humble parish. - "He refuses to cut his hair and it is practically the only thing he has that he can sure say is his in the world. So...I braided his hair."

" You braided his hair?"

"I absolutely did, Father. S'long as it is kept in it's braid, Marisol will have nothing to complain about." 

" She'll find something or another."

"I hope she goes back to Earth soon..."


	2. Snack time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 29\. Do you ever stop eating?

During his time with Quatre in Saudi Arabia, Duo had thoroughly enjoyed himself. Growing up in the Colonies in the conditions he'd been forced to endure, it meant scrounging through the garbage for scraps of a meal. Upon reaching Earth and going through a period of meal discovery, mainly as a result of being exposed to several different cuisines, Duo had arrived to the Arab nations with an open mind and a growling stomach. He'd discovered he had a hankering for Baklava and that honey fascinated him more than anything else in life. Or at least until he discovered a new meal.

Quatre had been in the study, pouring himself over papers that afternoon when the door opened. He saw a tower of sandwiches and light snacks walk into the vast study and judging by the bare legs walking behind the sandwiches, Duo was the culprit. He hadn't stopped to ask the braided boy why he seemed to have a hollow leg for a stomach, but at the same time, the sheer curiosity and desire to try new plates was a silent understanding. Not all of his comrades had a blessed childhood like Quatre had. Duo placed his small treasure on top of a coffee table, turning to leave the room in order to bring in drinks.

Bemused, Quatre had asked Rashid to do a small adjustment to Duo's Deathscythe to incorporate a tiny cooler, so that the other man could keep some rations that weren't necessarily MRE's. Meanwhile, in the kitchen, Auda had noticed Duo's stockpiling. The older man leaned against the counter and chuckled - "Do you ever stop eating?"

"Nah man, Sister Helen said I was a growin' boy and growin' boys like me? We needta eat!" - Duo responded cheekily, taking no offense in the meaningless banter. But Auda merely nodded, understanding. Deep down, _everyone_ knew what Duo meant. Because while he may run and hide, Duo never could lie. Especially not about who he was, it was as plain as the sand around them. He was merely making up for lost time, for meals he'd never enjoyed. He lived fast and hard, for tomorrow could bring his death.


End file.
